The Last Korean Meat Dog

I am the very last Korean meat dog. People from all over the world have been successful in convincing the Korean people not to torture and murder us anymore. They have convinced the Koreans not to beat us with hammers, electrocute us, strip us of our fur, and throw us into boiling water. Living conditions have been far worse than anyone could imagine: eating rotten food, watching our brothers murdered in front of us, watching mothers try to nurse their pups knowing that they would all die. I watched everyone I know killed. No one came to save me. I can hear the Korean men laughing as they stir the boiling water. I know they are coming for me. I have heard strange rumblings that the animal rights people are on their way, a bigger army than anyone can imagine. They finally put their feet down and said, "No more." No more killing. No more violence toward the Korean dogs. Yet the man stirs the pot. Another grabs a stick and a hammer. Why do I have to die? I have done nothing wrong. I have not hurt anyone. I wanted a life too, one that was full of love, sunshine, good food, playtime with my siblings, and a trusting relationship with a human. Instead, I have had a wretched life full of fear and terror. It is not fair. But I hear the animal rights people are coming to prevent this from ever happening again. But I also hear the man sharpening his knife. I know they will kill me soon. I am scared. I do not want to die. I want to live. I have a precious, sentient life to live but they don't care. They laugh when they see me tremble. They are going to hurt me. Cut me up and eat me. Why do I have to die in this way? I am only two years old. Why do I have to be murdered? Then it dawns on me: There has to be the last Korean meat dog killed. I am the last of all the Korean meat dogs. I have to die in order for there not to be anymore. I wish so much that the animal rights people would get here soon. I want them to save me so I can live a life of freedom. This is the authentic nature of the world. I am the last to be unfree. I have to die. I have to die today so that there will be no more. I give thanks for the sparse sunshine, the cold nights, the terror, the rotten food, and the violence. I give thanks to the animal rights people who are strong. Who have solidarity. Who are responsible. I give thanks to the courageous and the new. I wonder what my life would have been in a world with non-violent humans. I am so sad. I am ashamed. The man is coming with the rope, the knife, and the stick. He will soon beat me until I can hardly see. Then I will feel the boiling water. I am the very last of the Korean meat dogs. Who are you? Professor Boileau, liberation philosopher